


Staying Close, Always

by TheBlackMorals



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bodyguard Romance, Breathplay, Desk Sex, Falling In Love, Feelings, Feels, First Kiss, First Time, Forbidden Love, Frottage, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Love, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Spanking, Trust, Trust Kink, Tseng's gloves, Tseng's hair, Turk behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25424785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackMorals/pseuds/TheBlackMorals
Summary: Tseng knows exactly when a breaking point is coming, and he knows how to defuse it, too.
Relationships: Rufus Shinra & Tseng, Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Comments: 62
Kudos: 152





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was playing around with different ideas of how/when Tseng and Rufus might've started their romantic relationship (if not provoked by pure lust alone, that is xD), and this idea popped into my head...  
> ¯\\_( ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> It's much less romantic and mushy than what I usually write, but I do think it would/could be realistic that between the two of them - the President's son and his Turk bodyguard - a trigger of sorts would be needed to help them cross those pesky professional boundaries 🤔
> 
> (And what sexier way to do that than to have Rufus submit all of his precious control to Tseng, in the ultimate show of trust? *-*)

"Mr. Vice President?"

Rufus doesn't turn around, doesn't even visibly react as Tseng enters his office. The Turk looks around the lavish room and finds that everything looks to be in perfect order - but something is clearly not. He can sense it. The air in the room feels almost like the weather before a thunderstorm; too calm, almost stagnant, with the lights of the room seeming somehow dimmer than they actually are, as if affected by its occupant's mood. He looks back to Rufus. The young Shinra Vice President's shoulders are square and his back impossibly straight, his hands clasped behind his back, and anyone else would have surely assumed he's merely lost in his grandiose office view of Midgar.

Tseng knows better though.

Rufus Shinra, for all his seemingly endless pride and dignity, is finding it increasingly suffocating with each passing day that his entire life is all but decided for him; that the power and control he craves to shape his own life and destiny are forever dangled before his icy blue eyes, but always _just_ out of reach. Raised by a cold and vicious man, who has never acted like a father (or even like a proper human being), Rufus is nothing but an heir, a successor, to the mighty Shinra Empire. For all his rage and acting out, he will never be anything else, and he knows it. Has always known it. The only reason he's kept alive at all, is to ensure that the Shinra Electric Power Company will continue on when the President eventually dies. Some days it weighs so heavily on him that Rufus finds himself in utter freefall and desperate for something to ground him. Something to take the burden of the world off his shoulders, even if just for a moment, and help him regain perspective. Being his living shadow, Tseng knows this, even if Rufus would never say it out loud, or even admit it to himself. Tseng knows exactly when a breaking point is coming, and he knows how to defuse it, too.

Locking the office door swiftly behind himself, Tseng then strides confidently across the room towards Rufus. Whereas he would normally stop at a respectable distance from the young Vice President, however, this time he does not. Instead he invades Rufus's personal space without hesitation, only stopping short of their bodies actually touching. They're so close Tseng can smell Rufus's cologne; an enticing sandalwood spice that fills his nose, along with the pleasant scent of what he guesses is ridiculously expensive lavender shampoo. He instinctively wants to take a deep breath, to draw Rufus deep into his lungs, but he doesn't. Instead he waits.

It takes a long moment before Rufus finally turns around to face him, and had Tseng been a lesser man, he would have surely cowered under the sharp, icy stare he receives as their eyes meet. They just look at each other for a long moment then, neither speaking. There's no hint of emotions on Rufus's face; his flawless aristocratic features schooled into a fierce but unreadable expression, yet the fact that Tseng is allowed to stand so close to him at all speaks volumes of his inner turmoil. 

No one is allowed close to Rufus. No one. Not ever. 

Tseng moves his hands up between them and starts elegantly peeling off the black leather glove on his dominant hand. Pinching the tip of each finger and slowly tugging it free, he makes something of a show of it, his earthy brown eyes never once leaving Rufus's icy blue ones. There's a sensual smirk on his lips, too, his trademark, and though his pulse quickens a bit knowing what's about to transpire, Tseng's expression is as unreadable as Rufus's. Once off, he lets the glove fall to the ground next to them. 

Finally, Rufus reacts. He quirks one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows, a hint of a humorless smirk on his lips; a challenge. The air is positively electric between them in that moment, full of anticipation, and Tseng reaches up to let his now bare fingertips run slowly along one side of Rufus's sharp jaw, without actually touching him, caressing the air just next to it instead. It makes Rufus swallow softly, hesitantly, even as he tries to hide it. Affection was never part of the deal, after all.

"Tseng, I-"

"Stop." 

Without warning, Tseng grabs Rufus's throat and pushes him firmly back against the great window, effectively cutting off his airways with barely any effort. Skills of a Turk. Rufus's pretty lips part in a silent gasp, but he doesn't fight back, doesn't resist in any way. Rather he almost instantly relaxes into the dangerous hold, even as his eyelids flutter just the tiniest bit and his pulse races fast beneath Tseng's fingertips. He looks almost relieved, his eyes closing as he obviously relishes the sudden loss of control, delicate blonde eyelashes fanning across his upper cheeks.

"No, look at me." Tseng demands, voice perfectly even, soft yet commanding. Rufus opens his eyes again and looks at him with an impossible air of dignity in spite of his current predicament, and Tseng rewards him by easing his grip just enough that the young Vice President can take a couple of deep breaths to refill his lungs. It makes his pulse jump and thump almost too fast, and Tseng is once again mesmerized by the warmth and smoothness of Rufus's fair skin beneath his gloveless hand, and how delicate but strong the column of his neck is. His index finger twitches just the tiniest bit, wanting to caress Rufus's raging pulsepoint in something akin to adoration, but he doesn't. Of course not. Instead Tseng tightens his grip again with practiced ease, firmly holding it, and he leans in closer, closer than he's ever been to Rufus before, the tips of their noses almost brushing. " _Rufus._ " Tseng looks deeply into Rufus's beautiful blue eyes, smirking sharply, and Rufus tries to swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing helplessly beneath the unyielding pressure of Tseng's palm. It sends an aroused thrill through Tseng, making his groin pulse in interest, and he knows Rufus feels it, too. Using Rufus's first name feels almost as intimate as a kiss.

_A kiss..._

_Their lips are so close…_

Tseng eases his grip again just as Rufus's eyes start to cloud over, and the gasp leaving the Vice President's plush lips as he can breathe again sounds almost like a soft, breathy moan. Almost. His pupils are starting to dilate, eyes lidding, and Tseng suppresses a shiver of raw desire. Rufus is in his hands now, body and mind, fully aware that Tseng could kill him literally in the blink of an eye, if he wanted to, and still his hands stay relaxed by his sides all the same. It's a show of absolute trust that fills Tseng with a sense of accomplishment and pride he has never felt before, about anything, and in many way it fills his life with the higher purpose he has always been looking for. _Rufus_. Smirking sensually, Tseng tightens his grip again just before Rufus can fully regain his breath, making him jerk instinctively in surprise.

_There it is._

Having foreseen the reaction, Tseng had moved his free hand in between their bodies, close enough that it brushed against Rufus's groin as his hips jerked forward. As expected, Rufus is already half hard beneath the many layers of his white suit, and the touch makes his lips part on a soundless moan that Tseng so desperately wants to hear. Tseng doesn't hesitate then, as he cups Rufus's cock and balls through the expensive fabric, giving them a deliciously firm squeeze. It makes Rufus's eyelids flutter in pleasure, and the way he darts out his pink tongue to dampen his lips is so enticing that Tseng finds his hand tightening even more around Rufus's throat, in lieu of actually kissing him. _Yes._ Rufus's hips stutter again, jerking in need, and Tseng starts rubbing him through his pants; slowly and firmly, up and down with the heel of his hand, just the way the young Vice President likes it. Again and again, following the rhythm of Rufus's throat being squeezed and released, squeezed and released.

Their eye contact never breaking.

"I do believe I don't have to tell you this, sir," Tseng says as he eases his grip yet again, his deep, ever even voice perfectly masking the heady arousal that has left his mouth feeling suddenly dry, "But you're not allowed to come, unless I explicitly tell you to. Is that clear?"

Rufus doesn't reply, but Tseng doesn't expect him to either. The shiver of need that runs through Rufus at the command and how he presses his now fully hard cock firmly against Tseng's hand say it all. Tseng never gives Rufus anything he doesn't need, after all, nor asks of him what he doesn't want to give. 

_Rather..._

Tightening his grip again, Tseng suddenly leans in and closes the space between their lips to - _finally_ \- kiss Rufus. It's a daring move, entirely unexpected and unprecedented, and even as Rufus tenses in hesitation, in surprise, Tseng doesn't back down. His heart is beating so fast in his chest, in his ears, and long seconds tick by, it feels like, slowly, painfully slowly, their lips merely pressed together. It almost prompts Tseng to tighten his grip even more around Rufus's throat - just to get a reaction out of him, but he doesn't. Of course not. Tseng is nothing if not patient, continuing to stroke Rufus's erection while he waits, and finally, Rufus kisses him back.

 _Yes._ Tseng almost sighs in satisfaction (and relief) as their lips mold together, so easily, the kiss quickly melting into something less unsure, something more _real_. Rufus's lips are so soft against his own, warm and hungry, and Tseng knows he will need this more than just this once. He can feel the addiction developing instantly; the raw, feverish need, and his hand strokes Rufus faster now, with the sole intent of thoroughly undoing him. The young Vice President is writhing against the window glass, his hips jerking with an unusual urgency and lack of grace, obviously so very close to the edge. 

" _Come for me, Rufus._ " Tseng breathes as he abruptly breaks the heady kiss a few too-short moments later, not permission but an order, while simultaneously easing his hold on Rufus's throat. Letting out a loud, heady gasp unlike any Tseng has ever heard from him before, Rufus does just that - he comes all but instantly, hard and fast. His eyes finally slip closed, the back of his head slamming against the window as he throws his head back, and Tseng watches greedily as euphoric pleasure and relief wash over that ridiculously gorgeous face; his flushed cheeks, the elegant slope of his long nose, his plush, parted lips. Tseng has never made Rufus come _that_ hard before, and for a moment it seems like it's only the grip of his hand around Rufus's throat that anchors Rufus to his position against the glass. To sanity. 

" _Enough._ "

A half-gloved hand wraps firmly around Tseng's wrist a few long moments later, to stop him from continuing to stroke Rufus's erection, and Rufus cracks his swimming, pleasure blown eyes open to look at him again. _Christ..._ Tseng is absolutely spellbound. For the briefest moment, Rufus looks like a panting, trembling, sinfully debauched mess; so beautifully _wrecked_ and _real_. Relaxed. But then the mask slips back into place, too soon, and Tseng reluctantly takes two steps backwards, only just stifling a frown of disappointment. He withdraws both of his hands, and Rufus instantly straightens up, pushing off the window glass, his hands quickly and deftly tugging his expensive suit back into place. Neither of them says anything, though they do keep eye contact for a long moment - icy blue and deep earthy brown - before Tseng breaks it to bend down and pick up his previously discarded glove. Rufus will never be the one to look away first, after all.

"Will that be all, Mr. Vice President?" Tseng asks with his usual deference as he straightens back up, taking another step backwards to return to a respectful distance from the young Shinra heir. His lips still tingle from the toe curling kiss, however, his body too, and what he wouldn't give for another... 

_Next time._

"Yes, that is all."

Rufus walks past him with his usual air of dignity and importance, and if the wet mess in his underwear bothers him at all, he doesn't let it show. Of course not. Smiling a small smile to himself, Tseng then silently takes his leave, striding across the room while putting his glove back on. He's painfully hard himself, but that's easily dealt with once he's alone. He reaches for the lock. 

"Tseng."

Surprised, Tseng halts and turns around.

"Yes, sir?"

"Stay close." 

Rufus says it without looking up from the many files scattered across his desk, but the corners of his lips are vaguely upturned in an image of a smile. His voice is unusually soft, too, almost… fond. Tseng feels his heart physically skip a beat, a smile tugging on his lips, and he replies-

"Always."

-firmly, without hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated~♡


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having Tseng's hand squeeze his throat is just another type of control for Rufus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is supposed to be short and sweet - a stepping stone towards their relationship evolving into something more, deeper, in the following chapters^^ 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it~

The next time it happens, they have just returned to Rufus's office after a truly disastrous meeting with the President. Rufus is positively seething, full of murderous anger and hate, and ill-advised as it might seem, Tseng hadn't hesitated to follow him there. Frowning lightly, the Turk locks the door to the office behind them, then turns and watches as Rufus walks across the office and over to the great window overlooking Midgar with brisk, angry strides. He stops in front of it, and though his shoulders barely move, Tseng can tell that he's taking deep, steadying breaths. " _Fuck!_ " Rufus suddenly slams his fist hard against the window glass, the first real outward reaction of emotions that Tseng has seen from him in years, making him furrow his brows in concern. 

"Sir?" Tseng asks, and as the young Vice President says nothing, Tseng takes it as his cue to proceed with their ritual. He advances on Rufus like a predator stalking in on its prey, slowly and intently, the forbidden excitement and anticipation already making his heart race faster. The closer he gets to Rufus, the more he can actually _feel_ his rage, his fury, almost like something tangible in the air, like waves coming off of him. It's a thrill, truth be told, the danger of being so close to Rufus when he's lost in his all-consuming hatred for his father, knowing full well that he can easily take it out on Tseng, if he so chooses.

And knowing that he won't.

Rufus's fist unclenches slowly, and he lets his half gloved hand slide down the thick glass for a moment, almost defeatedly, before turning around to face Tseng. His face is schooled into its usual unreadable neutrality, but his icy blue eyes are flashing with a chaos of raw, unbidden emotions. Tseng feels a tightness in his chest, a sadness, just for a moment, and then he forces himself to focus on the task at hand. _Right._ He smirks deliberately sensually, holding Rufus's intense gaze as he peels off his glove yet again, like he always does. Then it's like a surge from there on out; his hand grabs Rufus's throat the moment the leather is removed, all but slamming him firmly back against the window and cutting off his airways in one fluid motion. Usually, Tseng will go slow and build up to the moment when he takes the control from Rufus, but this time is different.

A lot of things are different.

Rufus's breath catches sharply in his throat in surprise, his eyelids fluttering, and his pulse races frantically beneath Tseng's dangerously tight hold. Yet that familiar calm instantly washes over him all the same; his body slumps back against the glass in the next moment, relaxed, and Tseng is once again filled with a wondrous, illicit fulfilment and pride, at how devastatingly willingly Rufus puts his life in his hands. How trustingly. Tseng moves his free hand up to gently brush a lock of blonde hair out of Rufus's eyes, altogether too affectionately, and Rufus's eyes widen a bit. It just makes Tseng chuckle quietly, though the sound is lost in the sharp gasp leaving Rufus's pretty lips as the pressure on his throat eases just enough to allow him to breathe again. 

Drawing in a couple of deep breaths, Rufus looks at him with an intense but unreadable expression, as always saying nothing. Tseng looks back, unwavering, and he tightens his hold again once he deems that Rufus has just enough air in his lungs. Rufus's plush, pink lips part on another silent gasp, and Tseng's eyes linger on them for a long moment, hungrily, before he leans in closer. So close the tips of their noses brush. _Rufus._ Tseng looks deep into Rufus's impossibly blue eyes, whispering his name so softly it comes out more as a warm breath than a word, then crushes their lips together in a surge of feverish need. 

_Yes._

_Finally._

This time, Rufus doesn't hesitate to return the kiss, and Tseng stifles the soft moan lodging in his throat as their lips mold together, melt together, moving, parting, tongues meeting and tangling. _God_. The kiss is raw, hungry, full of tongue and teeth, and Tseng is panting softly against Rufus's lips as he once again eases his hold on his throat to let him breathe. His whole body is already pulsing, aching, and the moment he cuts off the young Vice President's airways again, their lips instantly mold together in another deep, heady, toe curling kiss. 

Tseng's free hand, moving entirely on its own accord, begins to rub the hard bulge in Rufus's pants in the next moment, and the needful little sound catching in Rufus's throat beneath the firm pressure of his gloveless hand is absolutely beautiful. His lower body is twitching and jerking, pressing needfully into Tseng's hand, and Tseng once again admires Rufus's ability to keep his hands relaxed by his sides through it all. But then again, Rufus is infamous for his steely self control, isn't he? And this, having Tseng's assassin hand squeeze his throat like this, is just another type of control for Rufus, too; even with the power to (literally) rule the world coming to him, Rufus _offers_ his surrender and submission to Tseng. He _wants_ to, because he trusts Tseng solely to do this; to unmake him, and to take him to the very edge and back. He _chooses_ to allow Tseng, and Tseng alone, to have this.

Whatever _this_ is.

And Tseng is completely swept up in it, for a lack of a better description; an addict luxuriating in his illicit high. He breaks each kiss in the same moment as he loosens his hold on Rufus's delicate throat, completely enthralled by the sensual way in which the young Vice President gasps for air, his chest noticeably rising and falling fast beneath the many layers of heavy white fabric, and how his eyes cloud over, dilated and unusually soft.

And so _unguarded_...

It's not that the Turk doesn't know or doesn't want to admit to himself that what they're doing is wrong, though. Even in terms of pure and simple work ethics alone, Rufus Shinra is his superior, his boss, and his charge, but that is not the most concerning (or disconcerting) part. Sure, it would probably get Tseng a bullet to the forehead if the President or anyone else ever found out - if nothing else then for the pure optics alone - but that's merely regulation. A calculated risk, if you will. No, what worries Tseng the most about their… _connection_ , is the fact that it's an undeniably dangerous game to play in terms of his own long term, everyday survival. Being a Turk requires a blank emotional state at all times, after all; a detached coldness that will allow you to kill someone, anyone, merely because you have orders to do so, and being attached to anyone, even a fellow Turk, is ill-advised and hazardous at best. Deadly at worst. That is exactly why, when first joining the Turks, you sever all ties to everyone you know and love - for the simple reason that it protects them and yourself as well. Yes, what he shares with Rufus is a dangerous vulnerability to them both, and Tseng knows that the logical thing to do is to end it. To draw back, right now, away from Rufus's clever tongue in his mouth, and to forget that he knows _exactly_ how big Rufus's cock is, how good it feels, and how ridiculously hot the young Vice President looks and sounds when he climaxes… 

But how could he?

Claiming heady kiss after heady kiss from Rufus's eager lips, it doesn't take long at all to bring him to the edge. His hips are jerking desperately, straining, and Tseng can easily tell exactly how close he is to coming. He breaks another kiss, abruptly, and Rufus makes a delicious strangled sound as he's once again allowed to refill his lungs with oxygen. " _No, sir._ " Tseng more so breathes than says in reply, his voice sounding both lethal and seductive at the same time, " _You may not._ " Smirking sharply, he looks into Rufus's swimming, lidded eyes. Rufus doesn't have to ask the question out loud; they both know, after all. He's close, very close. And Tseng keeps stroking him, feverishly, breathing " _No._ " every time Rufus makes a terse sound that's just short of pleading; again and again, until it's obvious that the young Vice President is losing his very last shred of self control, his whole body shaking with the need to come, all but writhing. _Yes_. Rufus comes literally the moment Tseng allows him to, orders him to, and Tseng kisses him even more demandingly, hungrily swallowing his sounds of pleasure as he strokes Rufus through his high.

"Stay close." 

Rufus says it as he's once again sitting behind his huge ebony desk. His cheeks are still flushed a faint pink from pleasure and sin, but his eyes are already focused on the documents in front of him. Back to work mode, the tension defused.

For now.

Tseng accepts the manila work file Rufus is holding out for him, and without even thinking, Tseng gives the same reply as last time; "Always.", with no less conviction or sincerity. Then Rufus - obviously fighting a smile - silently gestures for him to take his leave, and Tseng does, a genuine smile tugging up the corners of his lips as he crosses the office floor and unlocks the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time it happened, the first time Tseng had wrapped his hand around Rufus's throat, had been pure happenstance.

Tseng wraps his hand around Rufus's throat, though this time he doesn't apply pressure right away. Instead he takes a moment to just _feel_ how Rufus's Adam's apple bobs softly beneath his palm as he swallows, and he lets his index finger caress his pulsepoint just once, twice. Rufus quirks a perfectly shaped eyebrow in return, but he seems less surprised and hesitant about these little signs of affection - compared to last time at least. "Sir." Tseng purrs with a dark, sensual smirk, their eyes locked, and then he finally starts tightening his grip on Rufus's throat, slowly, so slowly, his fingertips digging firmly into the soft, warm skin. 

This time, however, Tseng is not the one to initiate the kisses he's already so completely and irreversibly addicted to. He doesn't get the chance. One of Rufus's hands suddenly moves up and wraps around the back of Tseng's neck, yanking him closer to make their lips crush together in a kiss that is too deliciously deep and heady from the get-go. _God yes..._ Tseng feels like the world stops for a long moment - waiting - then suddenly starts spinning fast; faster and faster as their lips mold together in a surge of raw need and desire. He moans needfully against those plush lips - cannot help it - and Rufus's tongue licks deep into his mouth. 

_Rufus…_

_Rufus is kissing him..._

Tseng feels positively lightheaded, overwhelmed in the best of ways. The firm pressure against the back of his neck is his only anchor to reality, and for a moment he forgets about his dangerously tight hold on Rufus's throat. Rufus jerks and makes a strangled sound a few long moments later, though, reminding him, and Tseng quickly eases his hold again. The kiss then breaks just enough that Rufus can draw a few deep, shaky breaths into his lungs, and then they're kissing again; deep, toe curling kisses full of tongue and teeth. _Yes._ Tseng is not sure who's actually in control, who kisses whom, only that he's still the one breaking the kisses every time he loosens his grip on Rufus's throat to keep him from accidentally passing out. Again and again, kiss after kiss, breath after breath, and it takes a while for Tseng to remember to reach in between them and start stroking Rufus's - by now - rock hard erection through the many layers of his pants. His touch is feverish and fast, at odds with the deep, slow, intense kisses.

The desire is absolutely _maddening_.

~¤~

The first time it happened, the first time Tseng had wrapped his hand around Rufus's throat, had been pure happenstance.

It was shortly after Rufus's appointment as Vice President of his father's company. One day, out of the blue, Tseng was called up by Rufus's security detail, and, puzzled, he hurried to the young Vice President's private quarters in the Shinra Tower. Walking down the narrow hallway, the closer he got to the door to Rufus's apartment, the clearer it became that something unusual was definitely going on. The sounds of things smashing and breaking and angry yelling from inside made him pause. He had been informed that Rufus was alone in his apartment, though; otherwise he could have easily believed a violent fight of life and death was going down in there. Tseng cleared his throat and knocked on the door, firmly, but the sound of his leather-clad knuckles rapping the metal was drowned out by a loud bang of what sounded like some type of furniture hitting a nearby wall. Tseng frowned in concern and swiped the keycard he had gotten from Rufus's security detail through the electronic access control lock, then opened the door. 

Chaos. 

That was the best way to describe what he walked into:

Absolute chaos.

Everything was smashed and broken, the entire room in complete disarray. All the furniture were overturned, and the floor was strewn with glass from broken picture frames, vases, lamps and nicknacks. Tseng then looked at the cause of the chaos and destruction, just in time to calmly take a step to the right and avoid the object - a vase? - that was flung right at his head. It scattered into a thousand pieces behind him as it hit the door. Unflinching, Tseng just quirked a brow. He had known Rufus since Rufus had been a scrawny, insecure twelve-year-old boy, and had witnessed him grow into the amazing young man he was today; confident, brazen, full of ambition and agenda (to say the least). And he had never seen Rufus lose control like this, not once, not even in his early teens. " _He killed her!_ " Rufus was almost gasping for breath in his rage, his chest heaving hard and fast, and his hands were clenched into angry fists as he stared at Tseng. There was a look of pure murder lust in his wide, unblinking eyes, and Tseng could swear they were almost pitch black, barely even eclipsed by icy blue. _Her…?_

_Oh._

Tseng frowned, then sighed heavily. It had only been a matter of time before Rufus found out, after all, now that he, as Vice President, was allowed access to the classified Shinra archives. Of course he would look up information on his beloved mother's untimely death, as there had always been secrecy and rumors surrounding her _accident_ , especially amongst Shinra employees. Only the top Shinra executives knew the truth - and the Turks, of course. Naturally, Rufus would want to finally know for sure what had happened to her. The newly appointed Vice President flung himself at Tseng in the next moment, grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket and slamming him back against the door with enough force to knock the air right out of his lungs. Tseng let him. " _You knew!_ " Rufus yelled into his face, his voice full of wrath and so much heartbreaking hurt, " _You knew all along!_ "

Tseng said nothing. What could he say? Yes, he knew. He knew what President Shinra had done to his wife, to the mother of his child. And he knew the Turks had covered it up. It might have been before his own time, but Tseng accepted responsibility and culpability all the same - he would have covered up her death, too, after all, had he been ordered to. He would have even killed her himself, had that been put on his plate, and they both knew it. 

Rufus gritted his teeth, snarling, and shook Tseng hard against the door, making the back of his head collide repeatedly with the unforgiving metal. The pain was awful, and Tseng's vision even blackened for a moment or two, yet still he did nothing, said nothing, and just let Rufus take his anger out on him. Tseng would never hurt Rufus, after all. Rufus was the heir to the Shinra Empire, and his boss and charge. And he was also… more.

Much more.

Tseng just looked into those savage eyes, calmly, and that seemed to fuel Rufus's fury even more. Rufus was obviously looking for a fight, looking for pain, surely (unconsciously) wanting to pair his emotional pain with physical pain as well. Tseng understood that need all too well. " _Do **SOMETHING** dammit!_" Rufus yelled, hollered, and his fist collided hard with the metal right next to Tseng's head. Ouch. Tseng could literally hear the bones in Rufus's hand splintering, yet Rufus barely seemed to notice in his belligerent adrenaline rush. Then the fist withdrew in the next moment, angling so that the next blow would hit Tseng square in the face, instead of the door.

The pain of the collision was raw and blunt, awful, but nothing Tseng hadn't felt before. His lower lip had instantly split, his brain rattling in his skull, but the punch itself had been far from hard enough to do any real, lasting damage. Not to Tseng, at least. Rufus, on the other hand, looked like he had been hit by a freight train, when he realized what he had just done. "I... I'm..." Letting go of Tseng, Rufus stumbled backwards, his eyes wide and full of horror, and he looked so painfully young and lost in that moment. Then, for some reason, he grabbed the - too ostentatious, but indeed intimidating - sawed-off shotgun he had recently started carrying around attached to his hip. Finally, Tseng reacted. Acted. He grabbed Rufus by the shoulders and swiftly turned them around, throwing the young Shinra heir up against the door, pinned, just like he had been himself a few moments earlier. The shotgun fell to the ground, clanking loudly, luckily without going off. 

Tseng knew that Rufus had not even entertained the thought of shooting him. He wouldn't. But having him wave around a loaded firearm in his current compromised emotional state could only lead to disaster, very plausibly even to Rufus hurting himself. _That_ Tseng could not permit. Rufus could do as he pleased to him, that was his right as his superior, but Tseng would never let him hurt himself. 

"Stop." Tseng said in his trademark calm and soft yet commanding voice, holding Rufus pinned against the door by a loose hold on his throat. Rufus's eyes were wide, dilated and full of shocked, and he instinctively froze for a long moment. Then it all seemed to return to him, like a tidal wave; the anger and hurt visibly washing over him once again, and he made to move, to push, to thrash, and Tseng had to make a calculated move, squeezing Rufus's throat hard to hopefully discourage him from fighting. " _Stop_."

It was like a seismic shift happened. 

Rather than tensing and panicking at the lethal threat, Rufus did the exact opposite - he abruptly _relaxed_ , deflated, a visible sigh of surrender running through him from head to toe. His eyelids fluttered, his eyes instantly lidding. He looked… _relieved_...? Tseng had squeezed more throats than he cared to remember, even back then, but never, not once, had his victim reacted like _that._ And when he loosened his grip several moments later so Rufus wouldn't pass out, rather than taking the chance to fight back, to get away, Rufus just stayed perfectly still, panting softly, his eyes locked with Tseng's. _Huh._ A strange, silent understanding formed between them in that moment, as Tseng experimentally tightened his hold on Rufus's throat again, and Rufus welcomed it all too readily.

The touching… well, that had sort of just followed as a logical companion to the asphyxiation. Tseng, ever observant, had of course noticed that Rufus's submission and surrender of control came with sexual excitement, too, and he had been more than happy to offer Rufus that extra release of tension. He had always known that the young Shinra heir was attracted to him, after all - it was his job to notice things like that - and these last few years, well, that attraction had been mutual. Very mutual. Touching Rufus became something Tseng needed just as much as Rufus did. Maybe even more.

~¤~

" _Rufus._ " Looking into Rufus's arousal blown eyes as yet another kiss breaks, that need comes to the surface with renewed intensity, and Tseng can't find it in himself to hate it. Try as he might, he can't even hate Rufus either, not even for the dangerous, complicated feelings he causes in him. Tseng feels like a man obsessed, and though it wars with his own rationale and desire for order; with his preference for easily managed, maintainable personal affairs, the thrill is undeniable. The danger heightens each time he squeezes that delicate yet strong throat, every illicit orgasm pulling them deeper into this _thing_.

 _Their_ thing.

Tseng looks deeply into Rufus's swimming blue eyes, forcing his own breathing to be even, deep, as he tries to maintain some semblance of control. Rufus is obviously getting closer to the edge, his usually pale cheeks flushed pink with arousal and building pleasure, and Tseng is about to squeeze his throat again and reclaim his lips, when a sudden brush against his own groin makes him jerk back. He almost gasps, the light touch instantly leaving a trail of pleasurably burning nerves. 

_Rufus… touched him...?_

Rufus just chuckles wryly at his reaction, a sharp, challenging smirk on his kiss bruised lips as he reaches out and touches Tseng again, slowly rubbing his neglected erection through his tailor fitted pants. _Fuck_. Tseng surges forward without thinking, crushing their lips together in a hard, fierce kiss. _Yes._ Another moan escapes him as Rufus then matches his pace, rubbing his erection as fast and feverishly as Tseng is rubbing his. Tseng completely forgets to squeeze Rufus's throat after that, merely holds it, too lost in the pleasure and the kisses and, fuck, the mere fact that _Rufus Shinra_ is touching him. Rufus doesn't seem to mind in the least, though, his hand just pressing harder against the back of Tseng's neck to get him closer, to deepen the kisses even more, though really, it's all but physically impossible to get closer than they already are. Then Rufus suddenly tenses, stills, his lips going slack for a moment. He comes with a loud, sensual gasp into the sea of kisses, his whole body stuttering as it washes over him. _Yes._ They continue to kiss through Rufus's high, tongues tangling hungrily, and Rufus keeps stroking him even after Tseng's own hand stills. It's too much, too good, too sudden. Tseng doesn't hold back his soft, breathy moans, his whole body straining, almost trembling, as he presses needfully into the unfamiliar but oh so welcomed touch. His toes are curled hard in his shoes, and he comes a handful of moments later, too wound up and aroused to last. 

_Fuck..._

Eyes closed and kiss bruised lips parted just enough to breathe, they just pant hotly into each other's mouths after that. It's like the world has stopped spinning, small aftermath tremors running through both of them, and Tseng's heart is racing fast in his chest and ears. He swallows hard. Neither of them says anything, but Tseng begrudgingly feels reality coming back to him altogether too soon, and he knows Rufus feels it too. Sadly. The Turk forces himself to draw back then, even if it's the last thing he wants to do, creating proper distance between them once more. They look at each other for a long moment, as if searching each other's eyes, then Tseng looks away as he yet again bends down to pick up his discarded glove. He stifles a frown at the sticky wetness in his underwear, and just as he straightens back up, his PHS goes off in his jacket pocket.

_Right._

"I have to go, sir." Tseng says, then clears his throat a bit as he finds his voice slightly raspy from the kisses and moaning. "Very well." Rufus nods slowly and gestures his permission to leave, the moment truly gone. Tseng bows his head ever so slightly in deference, then turns and rounds the massive ebony desk. He can feel the wet, sticky mess in his pants with every step, though, and he frowns again, hoping to Leviathan that he can make it to the restroom down the hall without running into anyone. Least of all Reno. The newly hired, young redheaded Turk is altogether too perceptive when it comes to sussing out other people's dirty laundry, after all, and dealing with him is the last thing Tseng needs just then.

"Tseng."

Tseng stops dead in his tracks halfway across the room and turns to face Rufus again.

"Sir?"

Rufus, still standing by the window, gestures towards the door on the opposite wall, the one leading into his private bathroom. "You can use my bathroom." he says, and for a moment Tseng wonders if Rufus had just read his mind. Doesn't matter, Tseng is just thankful that he might just get cleaned up before the cum soaks through his pants and creates a wet spot that will be visible even on the black fabric. 

"Ah, right. Thank you, sir."

Tseng quickly cleans up, then exits the lavish bathroom just as his PHS goes off again. He doesn't even need to check it to know that he's (very) late for his 9:30 meeting with Director Veld and the other Turks. Still he stops by the office door and turns his head to look at Rufus, who is now typing away on his computer like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

"Mr. Vice President?"

Rufus looks up, quirking a brow questioningly.

"Yes?"

"I'll… stay close." Tseng says it without really knowing why, his heart fluttering violently in his chest as if he had just said something much more incriminating than that. 

"Good." Rufus replies after a short moment, the corners of his lips curling up into a smile, and he looks back at his computer screen to try to hide it. 

God, Tseng feels the overwhelming need to kiss him again; a tangible magnetic pull between their lips, but no, he forces himself to turn around and leave without further ado. He's running uncharacteristically late, after all, and he reminds himself that at least he's sure it won't be too long before he gets to feel those plush lips against his own again, anyway. Usually, Rufus will only call for him when he is caught in extreme emotional turmoil and desperately needs to be grounded, but lately, that isn't always the case. Like today. Rufus clearly hadn't been upset (not beyond his usual grievances, anyway), but he had still stood by the window when Tseng entered his office, and when addressed, had said nothing, as is their ritual. 

The time in between their thrysts has shortened too, considerably.

 _Always_ , is turning into _often_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those three little words.

Rufus Shinra is nothing short of extraordinary. Not just because of his inherited privilege and wealth, but also because of his cunning, his smarts, and his ability and determination to persist and adapt no matter the setbacks or obstacles. When the time comes, Tseng has absolutely no doubt that Rufus will be a formidable leader, one that he - and his fellow Turks - will follow loyally to the end. And still, as their lips crush together and their tongues tangle with a delicious feverish urgency, Tseng knows another thing for certain, too - this _thing_ that he feels, this _thing_ that they share, it's not just about base lust or need, nor even about his own profound sense of duty. He looks into Rufus's swimming, arousal blown eyes as they part many moments later to pant hotly against each other's lips, their bodies pressed firmly together. It's about--

" _More._ "

The word leaves Rufus's lips on a heady rush of breath, and Tseng almost misses it. Yet it resonates so deeply with his own desperate need and want, and as Rufus starts to walk backwards, Tseng doesn't hesitate to follow. They only stop when the backs of Rufus's legs bump against the edge of the massive desk, and Tseng pins his lower body against it with his own. Then they're kissing again, all tongue and teeth, one or both of them moaning at the delicious but wholly unsatisfying friction as their hips roll and their clothed groins rub together. 

_More…_

Rufus's half gloved hands tug on Tseng's short ponytail, clumsily removing the hairband to make his hair fall loose. Then they fist at the roots, pulling, the sharp sting making his knees a little weak. In return, Tseng's own hands, both still gloved this time, run firmly up and down Rufus's sides and back, wanting nothing more than for well-worn leather and the world's finest pima cotton to disappear - poof - so he can touch warm, naked skin instead. Yet the thought of pulling back just then so they can actually divest themselves of their clothes doesn't even enter Tseng's mind; that would mean breaking the kisses, after all, the connection, and that is simply not an option.

Rufus breathes the word again in between kisses, against Tseng's lips, both of them panting hard. _More_. It makes a shiver of raw arousal run down Tseng's spine, and it ends in a needful twitch of his already painfully hard erection. It is the fact that Rufus said anything at all, though, more than the word itself (however delicious the plea), that makes Tseng moan headily in agreement. 

_Yes._

Rufus Shinra is usually the exact opposite of quiet - he _loves_ the sound of his own voice - and he sometimes even rivals _Reno_ in that department, and that is saying _a lot_. And _that_ is exactly why he hasn't really spoken before, during their thrysts. Yes, it's not easy to talk while being asphyxiated, that's a given, but this is _Rufus Shinra_ \- he would have found a way to do it, had he truly wanted to. The fact that he stayed quiet therefore only added to the profound intimacy of what they were doing; Rufus could finally let go of his facade, his persona, and relax completely. It's another thing he has so trustingly surrendered to Tseng - the silence he so fears. That, and, Tseng thinks, Rufus has probably also held his tongue not to ask for just that - _more_ \- in fear of being too vulnerable, too obvious in his desires and needs. And the fact that he now does, clearly emboldened by Tseng overstepping the boundaries first, is just as arousing to the Turk as Rufus's clever tongue in his mouth.

Yes, Tseng cherishes Rufus's silence and what it symbolizes, but hearing his voice so husky and full of arousal and need makes him want to utterly and completely _ravish_ him; to make him keep talking, and to give Rufus everything he asks for and more. 

Again and again, so much _more._

Tseng grabs a fist in the back of Rufus's semi long, luscious blonde hair and yanks his head back firmly, unceremoniously breaking the hungry kisses. Rufus makes a gasped sound of surprise, though it quickly morphs into a honeyed moan as Tseng's lips then start pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to his exposed throat. Kissing the raging pulsepoint he so absolutely adores, grazing it with his teeth. _Yes._ Tseng feels absolutely lightheaded and dizzy from the liberation, the lines crossed, finally letting himself do what he has dreamt of doing for so long. Letting himself - and Rufus - have this. _This._ And then the young Vice President moans his name, so softly, strong hands squeezing his shoulders, and Tseng realizes he's still rolling his hips against Rufus's, because he's suddenly close to coming. So close, finally tasting Rufus's skin, breathing in his scent, and Tseng wants--

Tseng stumbles a step or two backwards as Rufus suddenly pushes him away. " _Sir?_ " he manages, confused, his voice breathy and hazed with raw need, and he can still feel Rufus's pulse beating on the tip of his tongue. 

_Why...?_

Suppressing the instinctive need to pounce, Tseng licks his tingling lips absentmindedly as they just look at each other, waiting to see what Rufus wants. Rufus's chest is rising and falling in obvious pent-up desire, soft pants rustling off those full, kiss bruised lips as he clearly tries to regain his bearings. Tseng hadn't expected him to push him away, but he can tell from the way Rufus searches his eyes that it's not because he's reconsidering what they're doing. _Thankfully._ Rather, he looks… _hungrier._ And then Rufus pushes off the edge of the desk to reach into his jacket, which is draped over the chair. Searching the pockets. Tseng just watches him, curious, but before he can see what Rufus retrieves, a half gloved hand grabs his tie and yanks him forward again, their lips reconnecting. _Yes._ Heady kisses full of tongue and teeth, and Tseng pins Rufus to the desk again, getting sucked right back into the delicious heat and want that threaten to overtake him. It takes a good few moments before he realizes that Rufus has stuffed something into the palm of his hand. 

_What...?_

Reluctantly, Tseng breaks the kisses, both of them panting hard again. He looks down between them to see what he's now holding, and Rufus's lips brush his forehead, his tilak and hairline in the close proximity, making a shiver run up his spine. He blinks slowly a couple of times, his mind feeling a bit slow and dazed, his view pleasantly blurry from lust.

_A condom and a small bottle of lube..._

Surprised, Tseng looks up again, searching Rufus's arousal blown eyes. Rufus just looks back at him, defiant, smirking challengingly. It's not that Tseng didn't know that they were headed _there, here,_ but he hadn't expected it to be now, there, so soon... 

But Rufus obviously had.

Tseng wants to ask him if he's sure, but of course he doesn't. The young Vice President _despises_ that question - despises being questioned at all - and Tseng knows fully well that he wouldn't suggest it unless it's what he wants. "How, sir?" Tseng asks instead, and Rufus yanks hard on his tie to bring their lips back together again, in a sloppy, heated kiss that lasts just long enough to curl Tseng's toes in his shoes. 

Then, without further ado, Rufus pushes him back again. He turns around in front of the desk, looking at Tseng over his shoulder. His arousal blown eyes are beckoning, and there's that wicked, challenging smirk on his lips again, answering the question without words. _Oh._ Tseng swallows thickly. His cock twitches hard in raw desire, and he feels almost jittery with excitement and anticipation. _God yes._ He steps up close to the Vice President again, so close, embracing him from behind. He places the items on the desk for now, so his hands can run up and down Rufus's clothed chest and stomach next. His lips press against Rufus's nape almost tenderly, his nose buried in soft, blonde hair, and Tseng closes his eyes as he just drinks it all in; the feeling of Rufus in his arms, against him, and the scent of his skin, his hair...

"We don't have all day, Tseng." Rufus chides a few moments later, though there's no real bite in his voice - if anything, there's a teasing lilt only Tseng would recognize. Tseng just smirks. "You forget I know your schedule, sir." he replies placidly, yet still breaks his reverie all the same. There's a time and a place, after all, and neither is now. Not here. Here... this is what they got. 

And it's more than enough.

Tseng holds out his hands in front of Rufus to peel off his gloves, but Rufus's hands stop him. "No. No, keep them on… for now." Rufus says slowly, his fingers stroking Tseng's gloved ones in a sensual, almost worshipping way. It makes Tseng chuckle softly, genuinely amused. Of course he knows that Rufus has a thing for his leather gloves - again, it's his job to notice these things - and he will gladly indulge him, even if his own preference would definitely be to feel Rufus's warm skin with his bare fingertips. 

"Leather, sir?" Tseng teases with a wry smirk, his playfully quirked eyebrow evident in his voice, and Rufus pushes his hands away with a snort. "Shut up." he says mock indignant, obviously smiling, "You're fired."

Tseng just chuckles again, placing his hands on the young Vice President's stomach. One hand sliding up, up his chest, to wrap around his throat, squeezing as firmly as he can from this angle. The little gasp and how Rufus presses his throat into the touch makes Tseng's hard cock pulse even harder. 

" _Well, if I'm fired, then I guess there's no more need for titles, is there?_ " Tseng breathes sensually against the shell of Rufus's ear, a dangerous tone in his voice, and he presses his erection firmly against Rufus's ass, " _Undo your pants for me, **Rufus**._"

As always, Rufus shivers in obvious arousal at hearing his first name from Tseng's lips, and his hands, clearly lacking their usual grace, fumble to quickly undo his own belt and pants as told. Tseng then eases the hold on his throat in the next moment, and Rufus gasps softly in a way that sounds an awful lot like a needy moan, his chest heaving fast. 

" _Tseng._ " Rufus breathes once he has drawn a few deep breaths into his lungs, and only Tseng would recognize the plea hidden in the word, in his name. Then Rufus begins to push his pants and underwear down his hips, and Tseng pulls his hips back so that he can, then presses his clothed erection against Rufus's now bare ass. _Yes._ How Tseng wants to draw back and look at him, drink him in, but he doesn't. Not yet. Instead he squeezes Rufus's throat again, while letting his other hand slide down his stomach. Slowly, teasingly, and even through his glove Tseng can feel how Rufus's stomach muscles tense and quiver sensually beneath the fabric of his shirt. His hips shifting, jerking in anticipation. 

Then the head of Rufus's erection brushes the back of his gloved hand, making Rufus groan beneath his hold, but Tseng just lets his hand divert to the side instead, caressing along his hip and down his thigh, in spite of how hungry Rufus obviously is to be touched where it really counts. Not yet, though. Leather clad fingertips teasingly caress the inside of Rufus's thigh next, just high enough up that the side of Tseng's hand brushes his balls with every movement.

" _Tseng._ " This time his name is growled once Rufus is allowed to breathe again, the word full of impatience and need, and a half gloved hand wraps around Tseng's wrist. It doesn't try to force his movements, though, just squeezes firmly, and then Rufus leans backwards in the next moment, resting his full weight against Tseng. It's an unexpected surrender, an offering, his body relaxed and completely at Tseng's mercy, so beautifully vulnerable. It makes Tseng's heart race fast in his chest in both adoration and feverish arousal, his breath coming out in soft, quiet pants against the back of Rufus's shoulder. In return, his hand finally moves up to let his fingertips stroke up and down the back of the Vice President's hard erection. It earns him a honeyed moan, then several more like it as he wraps his hand around the pulsing length next.

Surprisingly, Rufus is actually bigger than Tseng expected, longer, and Tseng is just thankful that his leather gloves are like a second layer of skin to him, allowing him to still feel every delicious inch as he starts to stroke Rufus slowly and firmly. _Yes._ The sounds of pleasure Rufus makes do more for Tseng than those of any previous lover he has ever been with, and his poor cock literally aches to be touched in return. He ignores it though, focusing fully on Rufus and his pleasure only, for now. 

" _Wait._ " Rufus breathes after a while, using his hold on Tseng's wrist to tug his hand away, and Tseng's questioning hum is answered when Rufus's other hand removes his glove in the next moment. _Yes._ Then Tseng's hand is guided back to Rufus's twitching, weeping erection, and Tseng can't help but moan quietly as his fingers wrap around the hard, velvety flesh, finally feeling skin against skin. Rufus moans too, louder than before, obviously equally aroused by the fact that the last line in the sand has been crossed. 

_Finally._

There really is no going back now, after all; no denying what they are doing, or pretending that it's without consequence. That it's not about intimacy and forbidden feelings, but just Tseng helping his superior relieve stress, in an albeit unorthodox way. No, it's dangerous and sinful and exciting, and when Rufus stops his hand a few moments - minutes? - later, clearly on the verge of coming, Tseng is all too ready and happy to move on. He _needs_ to be inside of Rufus, _needs_ to hear his name fall from his lips as he comes undone, and obviously Rufus needs it too, with how he's trembling and fighting to hold back his release. Neither of them wanting _this_ to end already.

Tseng kisses the shell of Rufus's ear and the side of his neck a bit too affectionately, then reluctantly takes a step back. Rufus rights himself, still panting softly, and Tseng watches him as he obviously pauses for a moment. Just for a moment, though. Then Rufus shakes his head ever so lightly, probably dismissing whatever thought had given him pause, and leans forward, bracing his hands on the desk. Swallowing hard, Tseng finally lets his eyes lower to look at his ass; petite, taut buttocks, round and perfect, and flawless alabaster skin. _Of course._ Tseng's breath hitches softly in arousal, and from the way Rufus pushes his hips back invitingly in the next moment, Tseng knows he's smirking that trademark annoyingly arrogant, stupidly sexy smirk of his. In return, Tseng slaps one of his buttocks firmly, smirking himself as Rufus jerks and lets out a surprised gasp.

" _You are **so** fired._" Rufus growls in an arousal laced voice, then pushes his hips back again, " _Do it again._ " 

Amused, Tseng does as told, delivering several more firm slaps to the petite mounds, his own cock weeping at the pleasured little gasps leaving the young Vice President's lips with each blow. When he stops again, Tseng takes a moment to just admire the beautiful, enticing red flush and the sharp handprints blooming on the soft, pale skin. He wants to continue, wants to make Rufus's buttocks so tender he will feel it for the next day or two, every time he sits down. Wants him to _remember._ But that will have to be next time, too, when they are hopefully somewhere more private, without the chance of someone suddenly knocking on the door and interrupting them. Now, they need to move on.

Licking his kiss bruised lips slowly, Tseng reaches for the small bottle of lube off the desk next to Rufus. He pops the cap open, smiling to himself at how Rufus's shoulders tense in anticipation at the sound. Tseng then looks down at the impressive tent in his own slacks. _Soon_ , he promises himself, _soon_ , then squeezes a generous amount of the thick gel onto his slender fingers. Returning the bottle to the desk, he makes sure his fingers are fully coated in the slick, then - with slightly bated breath - reaches in between Rufus's buttocks. Rufus shivers at the touch, the coolness of the gel against his warm skin, yet presses needfully back against Tseng's index finger as it starts to circle his entrance.

"Ready?" Tseng asks softly, without thinking, too focused on the feeling of how the puckered ring of muscles tenses sensually beneath his touch, fluttering. Wondering if Rufus will be able to relax enough that this won't be too uncomfortable for him. "I thought there was no such thing as 'ready'." Rufus quips back, smirking wryly as he looks back at Tseng over his shoulder, the dark pink flush on his cheeks the only betrayer of his feelings of exposure and vulnerability in that moment, in that position. 

~¤~

Rufus had asked Tseng to start training him about a year back, saying that he wanted to be able to properly defend himself. He's a remarkable shot, though, having been trained since childhood, and he has his soldiers, security detail and the Turks to keep anyone from getting even close enough to him for close, hand-to-hand combat, but Rufus is Rufus. He doesn't do anything in halves, and he relies on no one. Tseng respects that immensely about him, and had readily agreed to train him. During the first week, however, every time they met in the Turks's gym for a training session, they had barely exchanged a greeting - if even that - before Tseng had knocked Rufus on his ass. Swiftly, easily, leaving Rufus shocked and sputtering with anger on the floor, growling about how he 'wasn't ready'. And Tseng told him every time, disapprovingly, that there was no such thing as 'being ready' in the field. No enemy is going to politely wait until Rufus is ready to be attacked. 

Rufus had quickly learned his lesson, of course, but will still every now and then blame his defeat on not being ready, when they spar together. Now with a smirk instead of a scowl, though, and Tseng will just chuckle quietly and shake his head a little too fondly. 

~¤~

"I will take that as a yes." Tseng says with a smirk and a fond roll of his eyes, and he circles the tight ring a few more times, before finally breaching it. _Fuck._ He can't help the rare curse that he mutters under his breath as his finger slides inside of Rufus in one slicked glide, all the way to the knuckles. Rufus is so ridiculously _tight_ and _warm_ , soft, silky walls spasming hard around his finger in the most arousing way. 

_Christ._

Making a soft, sensual sound that Tseng has never heard before, Rufus tenses for just a moment, but then quickly forces himself to relax around the intruding digit. "Rufus." Tseng says softly, trying to pour every sentiment of reassurance that he cannot say out loud into that one word, and Rufus just sighs quietly in reply.

Once Rufus has had a few moments to adjust, to get ready, Tseng begins to move his finger back and forth, in and out, slowly but effectively opening him up. He listens attentively to every sound Rufus makes, watches how his body reacts, and adds a second finger only when he's sure the young Vice President is ready for it. He then scissors them slowly, smiling as he brushes Rufus's prostate, making a sharp jolt of pleasure run through him. Breath hitching, Rufus pushes his hips back to try to make him touch it again, but Tseng deliberately makes sure to avoid the little bundle of nerves for now, just to hear Rufus curse his name so sensually under his breath. Then Tseng slides his fingers out to add a third, and he has only thrust them inside a couple of times when Rufus looks back at him over his shoulder, eyes smoldering with lust. 

" _Let me have you._ " Rufus says, demands, impatient. There's a hitch in his breath, the slightest note of something close to begging, and it's a heady rush that all but sucks the air out of Tseng's lungs. _God yes._ Tseng wants nothing more than to move on, too, his whole body - his cock and balls in particular - _aching_ for it. He just nods his reply, not quite trusting his voice not to portray his desperate need just then, and he lets his fingers slide carefully out of Rufus. The Vice President groans quietly at the loss, then rests his weight on one hand as the other reaches over to pull open the top drawer of the desk, producing a box of tissues.

Convenient.

"Rufus." Tseng says softly after wiping the excess lube off his fingers with a tissue, then lets his hand rest gently on the small of Rufus's back. There's enough of a question in his voice that Rufus hums questioningly in reply and looks back at him over his shoulder again, and Tseng is instantly mesmerized by how black blown his pupils are, eclipsed with only a thin blue outline. Christ, that's sexy... The Turk swallows hard, then lightly shakes his head, again reminding himself that Rufus would not have asked for this if he wasn't a hundred percent sure it's what he wants. 

_Still..._

~¤~

To the people of Midgar, the young and handsome Shinra heir is nothing but a notorious playboy, claimed by the sleezy tabloids to practically have sex with a new girl every night, all night. It couldn't be farther from the truth, though, but Rufus deliberately plays into the image all the same, making sure to trot around with girl after girl at whatever social functions his father forces him to attend. These girls all think they're going to get lucky at the end of the night and have sex with _the_ Rufus Shinra, only to be disappointed (and often embarrassed) when Rufus turns them down with no explanation. Still, they often claim their bragging rights anyway, making up stories about amazing sexual trysts with Rufus, just to save face, and Rufus gladly lets them. He never denies anything, never sets the record straight. He needs the rumors, after all, the scandals, so the truth will never come to light. 

Rufus is gay. But being gay is simply not an option when you stand to inherit the world. The President would do far worse to his only (legitimate) son, than he did to his late wife, if he ever found out that Rufus is attracted to other men. As a result, Tseng knows for a fact that Rufus has never been with another man before. He has never had the chance, and even if the chance had been there, well, the risk would have surely been too great for him to take it. No one can be trusted to keep their mouth shut, after all. 

No one, that is, except someone whose loyalties lie one-hundred percent with Rufus, proven time and time again. 

In spite of being a virgin, though, Tseng knows that Rufus at least has sex toys, and these are obviously being used frequently, with how easily Rufus relaxed beneath his touch, and how well and eagerly he took his fingers. How Tseng knows about the sex toys, well… it's his job to know. And when Rufus one day out of the blue requested one of the escorts, Tseng made sure to interrogate her thoroughly after the encounter. Out of duty, of course, but also confused surprise. 

Confused surprise that quickly went away when he saw her.

To avoid unnecessary sex scandals, the Shinra Electric Power Company semi secretly has a handful of high-end escorts on its payroll. Girls who have been forced to sign non-disclosure agreements, and who know their lives will be forfeit if they even think of breaking them. Simple as that. That way the President and the Shinra echelon can get their jollies, while being sure no one is going to blackmail them down the line with pictures or videos of their sexual perversions, as had happened one too many times after a careless night with a cheap Wall Market whore. 

Rufus had never been with any of the escorts, though, not until that day. They are all women, after all, and Tseng is sure that the idea of having sex with someone who has quite possibly just slept with his father - or Heidegger, or Palmer, or Hojo - is another major dealbreaker. No thank you. But then Rufus suddenly requested _her_ , and Tseng had made it his mission to find out why. For what. 

Having had her (forcibly) placed in one of the Turk interrogation rooms right after she left Rufus's apartment, Tseng had come to a halt when he stepped into the room. _Wow..._ She looked absolutely terrified sitting there - as she should - her eyes filled with tears, instantly pleading with him. Snapping himself out of it, Tseng had just cleared his throat, then closed the door behind him. Sitting down across from her at the small table, he just studied her for a long moment, not even listening to her stuttered questions of why she was there and what he wanted with her. 

It was uncanny. 

Her short, silky black hair, tied back into a ponytail (had Rufus told her to wear it like that?)... Her slightly tanned complexion... Her expressive dark brown eyes and long, thin eyebrows... Her plump lower lip... Except for her nose being different, longer, and her chin being slightly rounder, she could have easily been his sister. His twin. Tseng chuckled quietly to himself, strangely flattered.

At least it made sense now.

In spite of how utterly terrified she obviously was of him, though, she still refused to tell him anything about her _appointment_ with the Vice President. At first. Admirable, really, considering that she knew, just like every other Shinra employee (and most of Midgar), what the Turks are capable of. Still, it only took Tseng about two minutes to break her, and he barely had to lay a hand on her to do so. Crying uncontrollably, she told him that all Rufus had wanted was a blowjob while she fingered him. No full-on sex, no nudity on her part, just that, and when she hinted at the name Rufus had moaned when he came, Tseng had quickly held up his hand and stopped her before she could say it out loud. The room wasn't surveilled, but you could never be too careful; Shinra has ears everywhere. Finally, she reluctantly admitted that Rufus had also bribed her to bring him some sex toys the next day, saying that he wanted them to spice up his sex life with his girlfriend. Smart move, Tseng thought to himself, seeing as Rufus couldn't just buy them himself, in case someone started asking questions or got suspicious. 

Tseng took a moment to think. Right. Giving her a fake placid smile, he told her that he would let her go, and that he would keep her little transgression between the two of them. Extremely relieved, she instantly started thanking him, again and again, as if he hadn't been the one to force her to break the confidentiality clause in her contract in the first place. In return, Tseng told her that _he_ was going to buy the sex toys himself, and that she was to give them to Rufus as planned, as if she had bought them. She didn't even question it, just readily agreed, her cheeks streaked with tears and mascara, blood trickling down her chin. Tseng sighed softly to himself, ignoring the small knot of guilt in his stomach as he let her leave. It couldn't be helped, after all. He bought the sex toys later that day - not one of them made to be used on a woman - then wrapped them up carefully so the girl wouldn't see what she was delivering. Not that it mattered anyway. She delivered them to Rufus as planned, and later that night she had her accident. 

She knew too much, after all.

~¤~

"Something wrong?" Rufus asks with a quirked brow, and Tseng just smiles and shakes his head. "It's nothing." he says as he starts to undo his belt and suit pants, forcing the thoughts to go away so he can focus on the here and now again. On the heat, the want, the fact that he is actually getting ready to fuck _Rufus_ over the desk in his office. Letting his underwear and suit pants pool around his ankles, Tseng wraps his hand around his throbbing erection and gives it a couple of slow, firm strokes that almost make him come then and there. Rufus is watching him over his shoulder with hunger and appreciation in his eyes, and that makes Tseng moan as much as the strokes do, his eyebrows furrowing in pleasure and need. 

" _Tseng,_ " Rufus says firmly, that husky tone back in his voice, and he repeats his demand, " _Let me have you._ "

Tseng chuckles, more so in arousal than amusement, and nods slowly, reaching for the condom square sitting on the desk. Since he's still wearing one of his gloves, he uses his teeth to tear it open instead, and that just seems to turn Rufus on even more, a visible shiver of arousal running through him from head to toe. Interesting. Tseng smirks, then looks down as he rolls the condom down over his hard, weeping length. He can't remember the last time he was _this_ hard. Maybe he's never been. He reaches for the small bottle of lube, using a generous amount of the slick to coat his rubber-clad erection, wanting Rufus to feel the least amount of discomfort possible. 

This is not ideal for his first time, no, but Tseng knows full well that 'ideal' is not in the cards for them, and never will be. They live in the moment, and right now, right here, this moment is perfect. He will make it perfect.

Rufus deserves nothing less.

Tseng lets his gloved hand gently caress and squeeze one of Rufus's petite buttocks, and his mouth goes dry in want as Rufus pushes his hips back invitingly. Demandingly. They just look at each other for a long moment then, neither speaking, and Tseng's heart is racing fast in his chest and ears. It feels like the whole world narrows to that moment, to them, to _this_ , and he smiles softly as he breaks their eye contact and steps even closer to Rufus. His gloveless hand wraps around his own erection again, guiding the rubber-clad head in between Rufus's buttocks. It nudges against his entrance, and they both suck in a breath almost simultaneously. Then Tseng pushes forward without further ado, breaching the tight ring of muscles, slowly, so slowly sliding into him. 

_Fuck._

Rufus lets out a breathless string of curses that would make even Heidegger blush, while all Tseng can do is moan quietly and fight the overwhelming instinct to just snap his hips and thrust into Rufus faster, deeper. " _Rufus._ " Tseng breathes and luxuriates in the feeling of Rufus's strong muscles giving way as he finally pushes into him, seeing the way Rufus's shoulders tense and how his perfectly manicured nails curl against the glossy black surface of the desk. _Yes._ Hips pressing lightly against buttocks, Tseng stills and takes a couple of deep, steadying breaths, almost overwhelmed by the _heat_ , the _tightness_ , the _sight_. Then he waits patiently for Rufus to adjust, to stop clenching around him like a vice, listening to his shaky breaths as his hands caress and squeeze his narrow hips, in lieu of verbally asking him if he's okay. That's another question Rufus despises, after all. 

_He is actually inside Rufus..._

" _Tseng. Move._ " Rufus breathes after a long while, his shoulders relaxing a bit more, and his voice is laced with need. He doesn't sound too pained or uncomfortable, but Tseng still gives him another moment to just breathe, to adjust, then finally draws his hips back an inch or so, before sliding right back into him again. _Christ._ They both moan headily, and Tseng draws back again in the next moment, this time a little more. Rolling his hips, he thrusts deeper into Rufus, those strong, silky walls clenching and spasming hard around him. _Oh god yes._ Building a steady rhythm of back and forth, in and out, it's so very easy for Tseng to get lost in the sensations of the moment, the act, and to not think about anything other than the delicious tightness and heat around his hard cock; the sensual, sinful cadence of skin slapping against skin, beautifully overlaid by Rufus's heady gasps and half moaned half cursed demands for more.

Nothing else matters to Tseng in that moment. The smells of sex, sweat and lube saturate the air around them, and it's a euphoric high unlike any he has ever felt before. It's _Rufus_. It's really _Rufus_.

Thrusting deep inside the ridiculously tight heat again, Tseng suddenly stills his hips. Rufus is panting hard, his hips jerking in need, but before he can ask why Tseng stopped, the Turk grabs a firm fist in the back of his luscious blonde hair and pulls him back and up, off the desk. Rufus gasps loudly and follows the hard pull until he is standing upright again; his back pressed against Tseng's chest, trembling, clearly aroused by being manhandled like that. Smirking sensually, Tseng wraps his strong arms around Rufus's narrow waist, holding him tightly against him, buried so deliciously deep inside of him. 

There are so many things Tseng wants to say in that moment - praises, reassurances, promises - but all that leaves his lips are quiet, breathless pants as he tries to calm his racing heart. He can't say them, after all. Shouldn't. " _Kiss me, Rufus._ " he breathes instead, against the shell of Rufus's ear, and though the angle is a bit awkward, his toes still curl hard in his shoes as Rufus eagerly turns his head and their lips mold together in a deep, heady kiss. Their tongues meet and tangle between parting lips, and Tseng rocks his hips ever so slightly back and forth, just nudging even deeper into Rufus. Rufus moans breathily in return, reaching up and behind their heads with one hand to bury his fingers in Tseng's hair, firmly fisting. 

_Christ._

They stand like that for a few moments longer, kissing passionately, and then Rufus breaks away and leans over the desk again. Licking his saliva slicked, kiss bruised lips, he looks back at Tseng over his shoulder, the look in his lust blown eyes positively feral. Tseng groans, almost _too_ aroused, and he starts moving his hips again, now thrusting deeper, harder. His fingers curl into Rufus's hips, deliberately hard enough to leave bruises behind, sweat dotting his brow as he begins to fuck Rufus in earnest, deliberately aiming for his prostate with every thrust. Thrust after thrust, the pleasure building too fast, too good. It doesn't take long at all after that for Tseng to close in on the edge, and Rufus is not far behind either, it sounds like, having reached down with one hand to jerk himself off in time with Tseng's thrusts. The moans and gasps rustling off Rufus's lips are deliciously loud, too loud, bouncing off the walls in the spacious office, and Tseng leans in over him, his loose semi long black hair falling like a curtain around his ears.

" _Don't come yet._ " Tseng breathes against Rufus's ear, his voice commanding and seductive, and Rufus makes a sound that's suspiciously close to a whine. He stops stroking himself, though, placing both hands on the desk again, and Tseng kisses the side of his neck affectionately, before drawing back again. " _Good._ " He easily regains his rhythm, fluidly fucking into Rufus, and he soon, too soon, feels the crescendo creeping up on him, the heat and pleasure building in the pit of his groin and behind his navel. It compels him to thrust harder, faster, making Rufus scrabble for purchase against the desk in the sexiest way. _Yes._ The tightness around his cock soon becomes nearly unbearable, just too good, and Tseng finally loses against holding out, his climax punching the air out of his lungs. He thrusts forward one final time and finally spills himself inside of Rufus. 

_F-fuck._

Tseng pants hard, his blood rushing in his ears, and his knees feel dangerously weak for a moment. That was… _wow._ Chuckling almost drunkenly, Tseng slowly opens his eyes a few moments later, his chest heaving fast and hard as he tries to regain his breath. Rufus is panting too, equally hard, trembling in the aftermath of the deep, hard thrusts into him. Tseng smiles spent, sated, and this time he doesn't grab the back of the young Vice President's hair, but gently tugs on his shoulder and bicep instead, to make him stand up again. Wrapping one arm tightly around Rufus's middle, Tseng whispers something he shouldn't into Rufus's ear, while his gloveless hand wraps around his rock hard erection.

The hot, velvety flesh is slicked wet with precum, and Tseng starts stroking him firmly, wanting nothing more than for Rufus to share his high. He kisses, nips and bites lightly at the juncture between Rufus's neck and shoulder, just above his open shirt collar, and he only tightens his hold around him as Rufus's back arches and his hips jerk and writhe in building pleasure. Rufus leans his head back to rest against Tseng's shoulder then, moaning louder the closer he gets to the edge, and it only takes a few moments for Rufus to cry out his name as he finally comes.

Hearing that fills Tseng with almost the same amount of pleasure, physical and emotional, as his orgasm had.

They stand there like that for a while, maybe moments, maybe minutes; both just panting softly through the aftermath of their illicit pleasure. Their bodies are pressed together, with Tseng's arms hugging Rufus tightly, possessively, until Rufus finally begins to right himself and nudges for Tseng to release him. Tseng frowns, far from ready to move on just yet, to sever this newfound intimacy between them, but he complies all the same. Rufus is the boss, after all. Stifling a groan of loss, Tseng carefully slides out of the Shinra Vice President, and, making sure not to stumble in his pants and underwear, takes a few reluctant steps backwards. Tseng then watches Rufus's back attentively while he rolls off the condom, balling it up and throwing it into the trash can next to the desk. Rufus moves about wordlessly, quickly pulling up his pants and underwear, then wiping down the desk, and Tseng starts to get the sickening feeling that maybe something's wrong, maybe Rufus isn't alright after all, when the young Vice President finally turns around to face him. 

His usually glacial eyes still softened and glazed with aftermath pleasure, Rufus takes a step closer to Tseng. Looking deep into his eyes, Rufus places his hand on Tseng's chest and leans in to press their lips together in a kiss that's unlike any other they have shared so far. It's almost... sweet. Too sweet. Tseng feels like his heart is literally set alight as he reciprocates it without hesitation, attempting to pour all of his feelings of desire, affection and fidelity into it. The kiss is short, though, too short, and when it breaks, Rufus looks away when Tseng opens his eyes again, to look at him.

Rufus looked away first...

"I should…" Rufus trails off and gestures behind himself, probably towards the private bathroom, and Tseng nods with a soft smile. He then watches Rufus stride across the office floor, secretly hoping to see a small limp in his gait, but there isn't one. Of course not. Smirking wryly to himself, Tseng starts pulling his underwear and pants back up. He'll make himself look presentable enough to make his way to the Turks's gym, then take a quick shower there. Hopefully no one will--

Tseng stops mid thought and looks up curiously when he notices in his peripheral view that Rufus has stopped moving. Rufus turns to look at him, then, his eyes flashing with something soft and warm.

"Tseng-"

"Always." Tseng interrupts with a warm smile. He doesn't need to hear the rest to know what Rufus is going to say, after all. 

He will be staying close. Always.

Expecting that to be all, though, as it usually is, Tseng is surprised when Rufus doesn't move onward.

"Always." Rufus returns, the fondness in his voice making Tseng physically ache, and then he does something the Turk hasn't seen in years - he bites one side of his lower lip in an adorable, sweet half smile that he had surely forced himself to outgrow when he became Vice President; a glimpse of a forgotten innocence and youth, just for Tseng alone. Tseng feels his heart physically skip a beat at the sight, but then it's gone, over, and Rufus has turned around and slipped into the bathroom without another word. 

_Too bad._

Tseng chuckles quietly to himself, shaking his head as he zips and buttons his pants, fastening his belt. Finally he ties his hair back in its usual short ponytail, then makes his way around the desk and across the office to the door. He stops as his fingers reach for the lock, however, turning his head to look at the closed bathroom door for a long moment. Then he smiles a small smile, lightly shaking his head to himself again, and unlocks the door and leaves.

They might not ever be able to tell each other how they truly feel, might not be able to even speak of or feel love in the conventional way, but there's no need for that anyway. Tseng knows, and Rufus knows, and those are their three little words:

_Stay close, always._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the ending... ;;__;;
> 
> "Their three little words" is a play on "I love you" - they are thus their words to declare their feelings for each other. I hope that was clear^^

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!^^
> 
> This is the very first FF7 (and Tsengru) fic I've ever written, so please do let me know what you liked and disliked about it. I'm very interested in hearing your opinion~ :D 
> 
> Also, please feel free to talk to me about Tsengru in general!^^ I love talking about these amazing characters, and their relationship ♡
> 
> (You can also find me on twitter, as @TsengxRufus)
> 
> Comments and kudos are very, very much appreciated!♡


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